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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889206">Just in Case It's All Groovy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_goosecock/pseuds/kelly_goosecock'>kelly_goosecock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, RyuAnn Week 2020, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:50:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_goosecock/pseuds/kelly_goosecock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For RyuAnn Week 2020, Day 5: "Date Night/Sweets&amp;Ramen"</p><p>Ryuji and Ann get together for Valentine's.</p><p>The first chapter is 99% clean, fluff only. The second chapter gets real filthy. Read at your own discretion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sakamoto Ryuji/Takamaki Ann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>RyuAnn Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(title taken from 'let me watch' by viktor vaughn)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Hey! Sojiro! Dad!" called a voice from down the hall, and Ryuji winced instinctively. It was hard enough asking for this kind of help without a hyperactive little nerd chick around to poke fun… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said 'nerd chick' popped out of her room as if she were spring loaded, skittering to a halt at the sight of the contents of the Sakura residence's foyer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, sweetie," Sojiro replied, throwing his hand up in a greeting. As expected, the girl's warmth and excitement were all but gone, leaving bemused confusion in their stead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The heck is </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sojiro cast his eye towards the boy at his side - Ryuji. "Well? I won't tell her if you don't want me to."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That's just gonna make her </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>way </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>more curious, you old asshole </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what Ryuji </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say if he truly had had the guts to shit-talk the Boss to his face. "N-nah, it's fine." was what came out instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This guy needs some nice duds for a certain special occasion," Sojiro explained. "With Akira at home, I guess he figured I was the next in line for fashion advice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Heh. 'Certain special occasion' my ass!" Futaba gawked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Language."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"S-sorry. But c'mon, it's February - you don't gotta pretend I don't know what you're talking about. You're at the end of, like, the most basic romance path ever. Ooh, I wonder if you're gonna unlock any CGs…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Should I even ask…?" Sojiro pondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better if you didn't," Ryuji sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With her hands clasped sheepishly behind her back, Futaba tiptoed down the hall. "Y'knooow, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> offer a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>female </span>
  </em>
  <span>perspective if you want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji found himself the subject of another inquisitive look from Sojiro. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dating sims don't friggin' count as dating experience, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, still holding his tongue. At that point, were he to antagonize Sojiro, his only accessible male friend would be Yusuke, and Ryuji would rather have gone it alone than talk Valentine's with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>freak. "Sure, that's cool," he decided halfheartedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Poggers!" Futaba squeaked, pulling out her phone and frantically pawing at the screen. "I got, like, a bajillion ideas for your look. There's this really cute-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"H-hey,” Sojiro cut in, “not that I want to rain on your parade or anything, but aren’t you gonna give your old man a shot first? I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>pret-ty</span>
  </em>
  <span> stylish back in my day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kay,” she chirped back, “but if you pick out a lame outfit, I’m calling it lame. Right to your face!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. Sure thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he disappeared up the stairs. To Ryuji’s surprise, Futaba had fallen completely silent, staring at him with her hand pensively gripping her chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what? The hell is that look about?” he whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just thinking about your dialogue options. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>pick the right ones, but normally you can never get the good end on the first try… although, I guess you’re not gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>any other tries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you ain’t technically wrong… but why’re you so interested in this thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Becauuuse, dummy,” Futaba affirmed, “I like Ann, and I want her to have a good time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, you really gotta sneak diss me like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she enjoyed a catty chuckle at Ryuji’s expense, Sojiro appeared again with a neat stack of folded cloth in one hand and some simple-yet-casual black shoes in the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, gimme!” Futaba cried, snatching the first garment away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Futaba, be careful with that, it’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Silk!?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She had unfurled the shirt, holding it aloft like some kind of mystical scroll. The dark fabric was patterned with an assortment of small, desaturated dark-red and off-white flowers. Its aura was simultaneously somewhat regal and somewhat tacky. Disgust contorted Futaba’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want him to look like a friggin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>pimp?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she chided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait until he puts it on, at least,” Sojiro groaned, then looked at Ryuji. “Well? You wanna give it a shot, kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji shrugged. “I dunno shit about fashion, so, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re about the same size, so- hell, you’re more muscular than I ever was. If anything it’ll fit slim. Tuck it in, too. My room’s fine, go on up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Ryuji ascended the stairs, he caught the beginning of an argument:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How come I can’t say ‘ass’, but he can say ‘shit’?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Futaba…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>……...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Ryuji peered into Sojiro’s mirror, he couldn’t help but be a little impressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Futaba grunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ryuji responded, hitching his thumbs into unfamiliar pockets. Besides the shirt, he was wrapped waist-to-toe in pure black: slim black pants, a plain black belt, and the aforementioned shoes. Nervously, he began to turn around, mumbling to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I should- like, you spin around when you’re… showin’ off or whatever, um-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think you look great, Sakamoto-kun,” Sojiro declared proudly. “Almost as good as I did back then,” he added with a chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I don’t hate it,” Futaba admitted. “How could </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> shirt look good? Is this the true nature of Sojiro Sakura’s stand!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji snapped his fingers. “I got that reference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You only get the </span>
  <em>
    <span>normie</span>
  </em>
  <span> ones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I almost forgot,” Sojiro interrupted again, plunging his hand into his pocket. “Turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji obliged, and soon felt cold metal on his neck. A small-ish gold chain had been draped around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, now </span>
  <em>
    <span>THAT </span>
  </em>
  <span>is tacky,” Futaba complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought it would go with his hair, but-” Sojiro said skeptically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tacky or not, it friggin’ rules! A gold chain? Shit’s totally gangster!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Sojiro massaged his forehead. “That… really wasn’t my intention, but if you like it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah I do. Thanks, boss. I owe you one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tired sort of smile found its way to Sojiro’s face. “No worries, kid. I’m gonna head back now. Take care of those clothes, they’re worth more than my business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pardon me if this is rude, but I must ask what made you choose </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this particular task."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More than anything, Ann expected to get some kind of lecture on the history of Rococo art or the virtues of whatever random object had captured Yusuke's focus that day. Given his penchant for over-the-top theatrics, she found herself forgetting that he was pretty much just like any other guy underneath all the surface weirdness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, well," she began, gathering her thoughts, "you've got a good eye for art, so I figured you'd probably be a great help with this, too! </span>
  <em>
    <span>...also, Shiho and Haru were both busy..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see. Nonetheless, I would have assumed that someone as in-touch as you would be able to pick out a dress on your own. In fact, I would have assumed you would already have a quite vibrant assortment of clothing suitable for a date like this."</span>
</p><p><span>"I mean, </span><em><span>yeah, </span></em><span>I </span><em><span>could</span></em><span> just pick a dress I like, but that's no fun. Plus, if we both</span> <span>agree on something, that must mean it's extra</span> <span>good, right?"</span></p><p>
  <span>"Consensus </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>important in such subjective matters. Very well. I shall not rest until we have procured only the most sublime article of clothing Ryuji will have ever seen."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leave it to Yusuke to spice up the otherwise routine walk from the train station to Ann's favorite shopping destination. She nearly pointed out that, while important, this date wasn't near as dramatic as he was making it out to be, but she decided it would be better to let the guy have his fun. As she said, fun was most of why she shopped with company anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you into fashion at all, Yusuke?" she asked, interested enough to overlook the possibility of an hour-long lecture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"While I am a painter most principally, I do not deny myself the experience of any form of art. Fashion is unique in that it serves a direct, utilitarian function and is present throughout the whole of everyone's lives. That's excluding nudists, of course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can neither deny the bold, dangerous statements being made by the more avant-garde designers nor the appeal of a simple, well-made t-shirt. Had I any confidence in my sewing skills, I would perhaps have made an attempt of my own at crafting a unique piece of clothing by now. Alas..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann braced herself, as every sentence Yusuke abandoned meant a dice roll between getting to talk and being treated to another four or five sentences. The dice were in her favor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That would really be something," she offered. "Maybe someday you can make me a dress instead of just buying one with me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps. Although, I can't guarantee I'd make anything to your liking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you ever picked out an outfit for a girl?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In a way, yes. There is a wardrobe in our studio for the life models to use whether by request of the students or the teacher. I have given my input from time to time. There's far more than just clothes in there: costume pieces, assorted jewelry, even a mascot head… It's all quite gay indeed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann suddenly felt very confused. Why was he </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiling…? </span>
  </em>
  <span>"W-what? Why would you say that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hm? What could be more fanciful than a mascot costume?" he replied earnestly. "It's a teddy bear, mind you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," she grunted, and it felt like the realization had slid from her mouth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>ded to the ground like an anvil. Duh. Other 'gay'. Despite being used to most of Yusuke's eccentricities, Ann still wondered who taught him to talk like some kind of centenarian. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Madarame</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn't even sound like that. Oh well, the store was just a block away now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm… yes," Yusuke hummed pensively, "but I need to see it in different lighting. Step out here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann obliged, having already accepted the fact that Yusuke would likely have his own weird criteria for what makes a good dress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, that's no good either," he growled, tapping his foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The lighting?" Ann wondered aloud. "Does it matter that much?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But of course. You're looking at someone who has spent hours, nay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>days </span>
  </em>
  <span>studying the travel of light through the translucent folds and ruffles of every manner of cloth! Light is what </span>
  <em>
    <span>gives </span>
  </em>
  <span>us art, and by proxy beauty. Without light, there would be naught but dark, and th-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yusuke! What do you think of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>dress?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"One moment."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke turned, and before Ann could think to object, he had pulled aside a passing worker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Excuse me, my good man. Is there perhaps any chance that the lights in this establishment are equipped with dimmer switches? My friend has asked me to provide my opinion on her choice of dress, which I believe could only be done thoroughly under the circumstances that-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frantically, Ann dashed over, throwing her hand onto Yusuke's shoulder and tugging him back. "He's just joking, mister! Sorry!" she giggled unconvincingly, a crimson trace of embarrassment staining her tensed face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have I overstepped my bounds?" Yusuke asked after having returned to Ann's fitting room. Despite how emotionless his tone was, Ann almost felt bad for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, Yusuke. Sorry if I startled you. I just don't think all that stuff is necessary, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Yusuke pondered, "I suppose that Ryuji would not be the hardest to impress… nonetheless, don't you find that one to be a little… unremarkable?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's what I was thinking, actually."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. No freaking way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"B-but it was designed by-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't care! I'm not gonna pay that much for something that barely covers my boobs!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Such impudent language… this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>art!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all the more surprising when Yusuke showed up with something tasteful. It was a deep red - perhaps cliche given the occasion, but how could you go wrong with a red dress - and hugged her body tightly up until the slit that ran from her thigh to her ankle where the garment ended. There was one thick, asymmetrical strap, leaving the other shoulder completely bare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Exquisite," Yusuke cheered. "It is passionate, yet tasteful. In this most exalted of garments, you exude an ineffable balance of prurience and authority. I only wish I could paint such a sight…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're really either 0 or 100, huh?" Ann let slip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"N-nothing. I think this is the dress, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Riding the train all gussied up was not as embarrassing as Ryuji had predicted. Certainly, there were no fewer people onboard than normal for that time - close to dinnertime - but a surprising amount of them were seemingly in the same situation as him. Maybe it shouldn't have been surprising that the train was full of people headed to dates on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Valentine's day,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but this is Ryuji we're talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the crowd jostled him, he remembered Sojiro's words. How delicate was silk, exactly? Carefully, he fought his way off the train, slithering through the cracks between strangers. The battle petered off as he climbed the stairs to emerge above ground, bathing in the slight orange of the late-afternoon sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sort of sparkle caught Ryuji's eye. He would have ignored it if he hadn't seen it many times before. Standing at the corner of the street was Ann, light refracting through the translucent edges of her hair. One thing was different this time: her hair was flowing freely down her back. Ryuji couldn't help but break into a light jog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" he called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ryuji!" she cheered back, bracing herself for impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As was his habit at the time, Ryuji put his momentum into a tight bear hug, lifting his girlfriend up and spinning almost one full rotation. As was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>habit, she squealed a little at the sensation of losing contact with the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He allowed Ann to return to earth, but not without a peck on the cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence as the two finally got a good look at each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji beamed, threading his fingers between the pale locks of hair tucked behind Ann's ear. "How come you don't put your hair down like this except in bed?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a scoff, Ann shoved the boy away by the shoulders. "So you don't say gross crap like that, you jerk!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't help it," he claimed. "You look so friggin' grown up, like... like you could kick my ass, or somethin'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jeez, you think </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> look different… look at you! I know</span>
  <em>
    <span> you</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn't pick out that crazy shirt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Crazy? C-crazy in a good way, yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The right kind of crazy for you. I love it." Her eyes traced his outfit from head to toe, and she suddenly reached out to grab Ryuji's hand. "Hey - I'm starving! Where did you make a reservation?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji froze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>shit. </em>
  </b>
  <span>Sweat rushed to his palms. Conflict was much more uncomfortable without a shotgun strapped to your back, and this wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>the kind of problem that could be solved by one anyway, unless he wanted to finish his dinner in jail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't…?" Ann pieced together. "Ry</span>
  <em>
    <span>uji!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"U-um, hey! I do got a place in mind, I just- ...it should be okay. I doubt that many couples are goin' there anyway. It's just down here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope you're right, you… you </span>
  <em>
    <span>butthole!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>She drove an accusing finger into the center of her boyfriend's chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji couldn't help but stifle laughter through a crooked smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something funny?" Ann threatened. Perhaps it would be prudent not to push her on her silly insult. Instead, Ryuji started down the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...and very quickly saw the line of people in front of his favorite ramen shop. Weaving between the door and the queue were intermittent handfuls of disappointed couples. Even a cursory glance proved that there wasn't a restaurant around that wasn't similarly stuffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shit…" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Darn…" Ann agreed, apparently having lost the desire to rebuke her forgetful boyfriend. Said boyfriend turned her way with a penitent look and a nervous hand on the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Looks like I effed this whole thing up pretty royally, huh? And for a dumb reason, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann cast her gaze downward. There was no mistaking her disappointment, but she never preferred to pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not really about the food, I guess," she decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, are you gonna get all sappy this early?" Ryuji joked, having been revitalized somewhat by Ann's outlook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I guess I can save that for later, yeah," she giggled. "Let's just get some fast food, or something."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of salt and hot grease wafted through the slight crack in Ryuji's window. The cold February breeze incessantly crept inside, but anything was better than spending the night together getting hotboxed on cheeseburger fumes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do they call em' french fries?" Ryuji pondered, inquisitively raising a single fry in front of his face. "Ain't they American?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I feel like you should know that. I'm the sweet one, you're the salty one. In more ways than one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, what</span>
  <em>
    <span>ever," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See? Totally salty," Ann laughed. She raised her small container of fries, holding it next to Ryuji's head in her field of view. "Looks like your hair, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eh. No matter what you do to a potato, it ain't ever gonna get as fluffy as </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>shit," Ryuji bragged, running a hand across his head to prove his point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, good," Ann snarked. "I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried that potatoes would be fluffier than your hair. I'd just </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to break up with you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realizing he was being made fun of, Ryuji growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that's what you get for saying cheesy stuff to look cool," Ann said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, speakin' a' cheesy," Ryuji began, refocused. "Since we're here and not, y'know, in public, don't that mean we should do some dumb couple shit?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without an answer, Ryuji fished a particularly long fry from his cardboard pouch. He held it lengthways some distance in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mere," he urged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, god no."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her words, Ann scooted close enough to nibble at the end of the fry. As they inched closer and closer together, Ryuji's fingers left the snack, leaving it suspended mutually by their mouths and nothing more. Their lips touched, and Ann pulled away quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whad?" Ryuji mumbled, swallowing his food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>-glp- </span>
  </em>
  <span>can't freaking kiss you with food in my mouth!" she explained. "That was way grosser than I thought…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I guess you got a point. How 'bout this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised another fry, this time tipping it all the way towards Ann and putting it almost to her lips. Instinctively, she leaned in to pluck it from his hand with her teeth, though she didn't quite realize what she had done before she was halfway through chewing the thing. She tried to glare at Ryuji, but could not fight her smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now do me," Ryuji said, unfazed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>such </span>
  </em>
  <span>a dork sometimes," Ann replied. Despite the sentiment, she did the same to Ryuji as was done to her, and the dopey grin that resulted as he eagerly munched away removed any trace of sarcasm from Ann's attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever," Ryuji shrugged. "It's burger time." He began rummaging in the paper sack on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're done with 'dumb couple shit?'"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeh," he grunted. "I need me some meat."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Don't </span>
  </em>
  <span>phrase it like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that…" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'Hamburger'... 'zat mean 'cow' in American?" Ryuji pondered, unfolding a crinkling paper wrapper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"English, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and no, I really don't think so."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shrugging again, Ryuji began separating the top bun of his burger from the rest of the components. Delicately, he plucked the three crinkle-cut discs of pickle from the top of the sandwich and set them aside on the open wrapper before setting the top bun back in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...you know you can just ask for it without pickles, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji's eyes widened. How many times had he had Big Bang Burger with Akira? Hell, with anyone? Why did nobody ever tell him that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… didn't think about that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonchalantly, Ann plucked one of the pickles from Ryuji's hand and popped it into her mouth. "You're an idiot, Ryuji…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you're </span>
  </em>
  <span>brushin' your teeth later. I ain't kissin' no pickle-breath."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would stop you," Ann taunted with a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It </span>
  <em>
    <span>would!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Realization would not come fast enough as Ryuji watched a devilish, confident look cross Ann's face. In a single pounce, she was upon him, her tongue already urging him to give in. He reeled, gripping awkwardly onto his cheeseburger and reluctantly opening his mouth to receive the kiss. The wrapper, pickles and all, slipped off of his lap as he caught his balance with his other hand on the floor. Realizing and subsequently ignoring his hypocrisy, he met the intruding tongue with his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His submission was met with unabashed laughter as Ann pulled away. "You're too easy," she said, feigning disappointment. "Way too horny, too. I don't know how you boys keep it up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji took a large, performatively angry bite of his burger. "Whatever..."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As the sun went down, their inane conversations mattered less and less. They could talk about whatever they wanted whenever they wanted - having time alone together was another story. How could anyone waste an opportunity like that, and on Valentine’s?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann had trailed off in the middle of some errant thought when Ryuji, whose arm was already around her back as they leaned on each other, reached up to fondle her breasts. As usual, she gave an exasperated little snort of faux-disapproval - one which was easy to detect as fake when Ryuji rolled over on top of her and everything but desire vanished from her face. Clumsy though he was, he always seemed more concerned with Ann than with himself. Considering his tendency to leap in front of shadows, bearing the brunt of innumerable attacks for his team, she wasn’t surprised he was so selfless in bed. Even so, considering all of his past awkward pick-up attempts and all of the ogling - good god, the ogling - it was still a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little bit </span>
  </em>
  <span>funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers ran along every inch of her body, tracing up and down her slender arms, across her hips, up her belly… Shifting a bit, Ann slipped the single strap of her dress off of her arm and stared expectantly up at Ryuji.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh- you want me to-” he stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t have to respond. Greedily, he tugged her dress away and cupped her chest in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still got the best effin’ titties ever,” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you still shouldn’t write a romance novel,” Ann laughed back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her teasing was quickly silenced when he placed his lips over her left nipple, still stroking her soft skin with his free hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"W-wait," she suddenly interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In confused silence, Ryuji paused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There was… another thing I wanted to give you, but I wanted to wait until the right time to bring it up," she explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, shit. You got me excited now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sly smile, she shimmied out from under him and onto the floor, reaching for her bag. When she came back up, she held out a spray can of whipped cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, shit! I love that stuff!" Ryuji gasped, taking the can and popping the top off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um- Ryuji-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could clarify, he had already tipped his head back and sprayed a big glob of whipped cream into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's…" she sighed, unable to laugh and not sure how surprised to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whah?" he asked, gulping down the cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just thought, y'know, it's kind of a cliche thing, but- I mean, in the movies or whatever, it's like, kind of a sexy thing to, um…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, like, you wanted me to put this on you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It sounds way less sexy when you say it out loud," Ann lamented. "It actually kind of sounds gross now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Too sticky," Ryuji agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I dunno, I guess I just thought it might spice things up, 'cause of Valentine's, and all…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ryuji stared off into the corner of the room. For once, it seemed like he was actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking through </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he wanted to say next, which signaled to Ann that whatever was coming was probably either really heartfelt or really despicable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, uhm," he decided finally, "if you want to spice things up…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Ann prodded, hopping onto his lap and knocking the can from his hand. She ran her hands playfully up the sides of his body. "C'mon, you can ask. I promise I won't laugh that much."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C-can I put it in your butt?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A second passed. Ann's hands had frozen around the boy's chest. Her brow slowly rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-i-i-it's not-" Ryuji stammered. "Y-you don't gotta, but I just mean, like, if you wanted to try some'n </span>
  <em>
    <span>different </span>
  </em>
  <span>or whatever, I thought it might be… kinda… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexy?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"You really wanna put it in </span>
  <em>
    <span>there?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Ann's turn to think. While she certainly did and said some rather un-romantic things under the influence of her own libido, she still liked to keep a romantic attitude when it came to intimacy. There wasn't anything all that romantic about anal sex, she thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe that was what made it appealing? That it was… fringe? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've never, um, tried anything like that," she worried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Ryuji whispered, wrapping around her and pulling her even closer. "We don't gotta do it if you don't wanna. Let's just have some fun, ok?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, she yanked free of his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You jerk…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't really think I'm gonna back down from a challenge like that, do you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhhh… no?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you better get that shirt off," she smirked, reaching behind her to unzip her dress. "You wouldn't want to mess it up, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"R-right," he said, thumbing his buttons off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping out of her dress and panties, Ann relished the fact that no matter how often they got intimate, Ryuji seemed equally stunned at her body every single time - which also made it feel less shameful to stare at </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was definitely a little strange to be so genuinely infatuated with such a goofball, but your average goofball wouldn't be so goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>toned.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Strangely, the half-undressed Ryuji got up off the bed and walked over to his closet, fishing around in the back. He returned with a clear bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um, why do you have that?" Ann asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trust me, we're gonna need it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. I mean, why do you have it at all?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An eyebrow rose. Ryuji's 'parsing my next words' stare came back, and Ann was fairly certain those words would be despicable again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, I- ...uh, I dunno. I guess just in case?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ann shoved Ryuji, and he fell backwards onto his bed with a yelp. Giggling, she slid on top of him, pressing their chests together and staring him in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>such </span>
  </em>
  <span>an idiot," she laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, just shaddup an' kiss me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did. The tingling warmth of exploring fingers traveled down the small of her back as Ryuji worked his way across her body. He slid his callused palms onto her tantalizingly smooth ass, squeezing, kissing, sighing…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a daring finger slid down to grace the edge of her tight entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly jumped. That was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"You okay?" Ryuji whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it's just… new."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna try it with this, okay?" he said, reaching across the bed to where the lube had fallen when Ann tackled him. She nodded, so he squeezed a glob onto his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his touch, she gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Cold!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>she awkwardly exclaimed. "No, don't stop…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Ryuji's fingers gently massaged the gel into her sensitive skin, she became very, very aware of a certain set of muscles. He couldn't see it from beneath her, but Ryuji could surely feel how much she was tensing and trying to relax her </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire bottom half, </span>
  </em>
  <span>let alone where he was touching. The sensation was, as she said, entirely different from anything she'd ever experienced, but it definitely wasn't all bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he slipped a knuckle inside, and her opinion faltered. It was too weird to kiss during, so she simply stared at Ryuji's equally-unsure face. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"That okay? Hurt at all?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Keep going."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Another knuckle pushed its way inside, and pain came with it. She clenched reflexively at Ryuji's finger, and he grunted in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Now, that kinda hurts," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann clarified. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're, like, super tense," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaling a deep breath, Ann loosened what felt like every muscle in her body, and the pain down below receded immediately. All that was left was… well, the feeling of penetration itself was definitely familiar enough to Ann by then, but it felt like a wire got crossed somewhere between her butt and her brain. The nerves in her skin arced with a pleasing electricity, but it was of such an undeniably different nature that she felt reluctant to trust it. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel that good. It was too intoxicatingly intense for such a cautious start on Ryuji's part. It was… deceptive. Exotic. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"More?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann asked, though she wasn't sure why she posed it as a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last joint of Ryuji's finger squeezed inside of her, and instead of tensing at it, she made an effort to relax against the pressure. There was an undeniable stab of pain, but it, too, quickly receded, leaving her feeling remarkably full for how little was inside of her. ...and she was supposed to fit his </span>
  <em>
    <span>cock</span>
  </em>
  <span> in there…?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's kinda weird, but I think I like it," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The finger started moving, and each thrust felt more and more comfortable, sending little shocks up her spine. A little whine escaped her throat, and she was dully aware that she had started gently rocking against her boyfriend's hand, urging it deeper inside. With a cautious rhythm, she tensed and relaxed, tugging at the finger and pulling it inside of her, deeper, ever deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Ryuji poised a second finger next to the first and pressed it inside of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Ohmygod," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she sputtered, and Ryuji stopped immediately. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"No, no," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she urged. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Keep going."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was more pain, but not near enough to make her want to stop. If anything, it made it all the more satisfying when she finally found out just how to relax and enjoy how full she was beginning to feel. All of the stretching and tensing and relaxing was like regular sex times ten, and she bucked back even harder just to feel how much more full she could get. Helpless little gasps and moans began to dribble from her mouth, and Ryuji took that as a sign to speed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Another?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>he asked, and Ann noticed how pensive he was still being. How could he second guess something that felt so good?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Are you, um… is this good for you?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann asked honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's… I mean, I don't wanna hurt you, but it's… like, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>so</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> effin' sexy."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Embarrassingly, Ann giggled. It would have been a fairly natural reaction had she not had two fingers up her ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Gimme more, then," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she decided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last one stung even more than the first two, but that was just another reason to press on. The question of taking all of Ryuji inside of her was swiftly changing from a reluctant possibility to a challenge she was determined to overcome. Anything would be okay if she could feel that part of him inside her, stretching, throbbing…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck," </span>
  </em>
  <span>she choked, near silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Damn," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji marveled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"I…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah…?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I wanna fuck you so bad."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poised above Ann, who lay flat on her back, Ryuji slicked a glob of lube onto his bare cock. His breathing was shallow now, and his heartbeat rapid. This was far from his first rodeo, and although one might not expect such a seemingly simple change to make much of a difference, he couldn't shake his nerves. It was like his first time all over again - worrying about if he's doing the right thing, if it feels good for her, if he's inadvertently hurting her, if he's gonna last more than five goddamn seconds…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wiped his hand clean on a random tank top from his hamper (in their haste, not even Ann wanted to stop to find a towel) and reached up to clasp his hands around Ann's, their fingers intertwining as the tip of his cock just barely kissed her pert entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a second to push inside of her, and the sensation was immediately overwhelming. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Holy </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>shit," </em>
  </b>
  <span>he gasped, his head drooping to the side of hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Nnnnnnyeah-" </span>
  </em>
  <span>she agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the careful, slow motion Ryuji had begun was enough to really call into question his sexual stamina. It wasn't just the sheer physical feeling - and good god was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>something else - but the mood, too. Whatever Ann was feeling must certainly have been just as blissful, as her little chirps of pleasure began droning out into languid </span>
  <em>
    <span>groaaaans, </span>
  </em>
  <span>peppered with the occasional </span>
  <em>
    <span>'ohmygosh'. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Y'alright?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ryuji forced through a grunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Keep going, please keep-" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann begged, trailing off into another rather filthy noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. With every pump of his hips, he found himself being relentlessly pulled inside of her, her warmth squeezing and tugging at every inch of his aching cock. Finding confidence in his rhythm, Ryuji leaned down to run his tongue along the side of her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yes- Yes, Ryuji- Ohmygosh, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>yes," </em>
  </b>
  <span>she gasped, and what more encouragement did he need?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pecked and nibbled at her neck, all the while maintaining a slow but steady pace, forcing his entire length into her ass over and over and over…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You feel -anh- </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>so </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>effin' good, babe," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he whispered in her ear, and she whined back in appreciation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled a hand free from her grasp and thumbed roughly at her nipple, which was already standing out, hard and sensitive. His mouth trailed down across her collarbone and along her other breast, taking her other nipple between his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"F-fuck-" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann chirped, and Ryuji couldn't help but feel a little smug. It wasn't often he got to hear her say </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You close?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Ha- -</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>annnhhh- </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>-harder-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For as much as she liked to be all cutesy and romantic, Ann certainly wasn't pulling any punches. If anything, her commitment to the vulgarity of sex turned Ryuji on even more. He worked his powerful hips harder, the steady rhythm of his thrusts giving way to something more animalistic. If she wanted it harder, that's what she was going to get, but if she didn't cum soon…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No time to focus on that. He jackhammered into her with all the force he could muster, pulling his mouth away from her chest to focus on the feeling. Ann squirmed helplessly beneath him, twitching and bucking and gripping his back for dear life. As long as he thought about her - her pleasure - he could stave off the orgasm that was already welling up in the base of his cock. Thrust. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pump. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ohmygod! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He allowed himself to become lost in her - lost in her sounds, her bouncing, soft breasts, her face, twisted up in the passionate agony of an oncoming climax they both knew would hit her like a train.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Ohmygod-ohmygod-ohmygod-Ry</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>ujiohmygod-"</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>She cried out, gripping savagely onto his hair and wrenching his head down to meet hers. Wails of pleasure passed from her lips into his, and as her hips and legs seized against him, they kissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't but a moment after her cries receded that Ryuji noticed that familiar feeling in his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oh, shit," </span>
  </em>
  <span>was all he managed, and he hastily pulled back, rushing his hand down to his groin. As he exited her, he greedily stroked himself, groaning his own little vulgar sounds. A distinct sensation of extreme pressure. That ineffable, shimmering wave of electricity…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He erupted, thick ropes of cum splattering against Ann's backside and trickling down across her asshole. Ryuji nearly fell. His weakened legs leaned into the bed as his orgasm subsided and those machine-gun spurts slowed to a dribble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her chest heaving with each breath, Ann lay limp, and Ryuji finally got a good look at her. Her hair was messily strewn about, and little beads of sweat ran down the peaks of her perfect tits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way Ryuji would forget a sight like that, but there was no way he was just gonna let it stay a mere memory, either. He stumbled to his nightstand and grappled for his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I take a pic of you?" he asked. "I'll send it to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mmh, sure, whatever," she sighed, and Ryuji wondered if she was in any state to understand a question like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless, he frantically opened his camera app, desperate to capture the moment as best as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would be uncomfortable with it, but after taking the picture, Ryuji thought Ann would make a top-notch pornstar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thumbed through his contacts and sent the image before leaving to find a towel. Ann deserved better than to clean up with some random tank top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>………</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he handed Ann the towel - and by that time she had seemingly recovered - his phone buzzed. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>New Message: Akira</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Huh? That was interesting. Ryuji thought that guy would be busy with his own date right about now. He slid the lock on his phone open, and his heart stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two thumbnails and a new message were on the screen. The first image was the one Ryuji had just taken, and that was bad enough, but the second one… he tapped it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shirtless, disheveled Akira was in the bottom left corner of the screen, throwing up a peace sign and grinning his signature shit-eating grin. The rest of the frame was filled by some naked girl, her breasts clearly dripping with cum. She was holding a hand in front of her embarrassed face, and just by looking at her short brown hair, Ryuji could tell it was Makoto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The message underneath read: happy valentines to you too, bro</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holy effing </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ryuji? What's up?" Ann asked from the bed. "You wanna shower together?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head snapped up. Ann sat on the edge of his bed in a relaxed, coy posture, her hair waving down past her shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eh, eff it. No amount of embarrassment could distract from how much he loved her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, hell yeah. Let's do it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he spied something glinting on his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"One sec, actually," he amended, reaching for the whipped cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>jesus," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ann sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuji popped the top off, tipped his head back, and squeezed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this, you can follow me at @DegenerateMoron</p></blockquote></div></div>
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